


Dead Sidekick

by badlifechoices, jasonptodd



Series: BruJay Fic Exchange [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M, much gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1270957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badlifechoices/pseuds/badlifechoices, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasonptodd/pseuds/jasonptodd





	Dead Sidekick

6th April

Bruce’s day was getting worse with every minute ever since he had stepped into his office to be greeted with the news that he would not be able to hold the party in Gotham’s most famous club because they hadn’t managed to repair the damage the latest thunderstorm had caused. He had been willing to invest a lot of money into the repairs but those people were just not able to get the works going until a good two days too late. The party he was hosting to celebrate their latest successful business deal was supposed to be in less than a week and now he would have to either find a new location or tell Alfred that the annual Christmas party wasn’t the only nightmare the Wayne manor had to live through this year.

“Also… the band has cancelled. Apparently their bassist caught the flu.” Gotham’s most wealthy and famous bachelor was about to tell his secretary to go and find him a suitable alternative because it was her goddamn job after all. The look on her face stopped him though. There was something on her mind he could tell for sure and it was obviously something she thought unfitting or risky since she didn’t just tell him. “It could prove very difficult to find another band in such a short time. But, Mister Wayne, there is this one band currently spending a few weeks in Gotham to record a new single. I may be able to…” Bruce’s eyebrow rose as he waited patiently for her to continue and tried not to stare too openly at the clock. “Well, it might not be what you had planned but it’s a band that most of your employees, especially the younger ones seem to enjoy.”

“What band are you talking about?”

“I believe they are called… Dead Sidekick.” Her tone suggested that she knew quite well how they were called, though she tried to make it sound like it was a purely professional interest.

“Dead Sidekick?” Bruce didn’t know much about the band, since he wasn’t really invested in the music business and apart from the few songs that were played on the radio often enough to make every sane person lose their shit he hadn’t actively listened to anything they had produced. But he had heard rumours about hotel rooms and concert halls left in a horrible state, causing quite a number in damage. He had absolutely no interest in letting someone like that into his precious Manor. Alfred would probably kick his arse if he even suggested something of the kind. “Aren’t they supposed to be a punk rock band?”

“Yes they are! But their lyrics are good and the tunes are quite catchy. According to the Rolling Stone they are one of the upcoming bands with enough potential to do well on the international stage. They already scored a few chart hits in Europe and their new album is said to be one of the best the genre has ever seen.”

Bruce frowned. What she said sounded like the band would be the very best he could get with only a week left to the event but he was still not quite convinced. What did he care about a few upcoming starlets when they would most likely try their very best to do lasting damage to his home? Also, was that a hint of blush on her cheeks? “Let me guess, Miss Moneypenny, they are also very popular among the female population for their boyish charm and good looks?” The woman nodded quietly but without betraying her professional expression.

“You will try to find another, less punk-y band that is not known for their nature as a group of hooligans. But if you do not manage to find anything, you may arrange this.” Something told him, she had probably called their manager or whatever an hour ago and was only waiting to tell him about the final details.

He left the office building with the feeling that he had just agreed to something he would regret later and the intention to research a bit more about this new punk rock band on the block before they would show up on his doorstep.

 

14th April – The Day before

The preparations were all finished by the time he retired into the luxurious office with the nice armchair and the windows wide open to let in a surprisingly warm breeze. He usually didn’t drink on the night before happenings like that but today he felt he needed the glass of whisky as an encouragement to work himself through all the critics his other secretary had dug up on Dead Sidekick.

It was horrifying.

Not only were they known to leave behind hotel rooms in a state of complete and utter destruction but their concerts ended in violence more often than not even with the police being present. There were a few reports about the members, Roy Harper, Bucky Barnes, Conner Kent and Jason Todd, being involved in various fights. The one report about the lead singer caught his eye for a moment. What was so special about a young delinquent, with a history of charges such as assault and theft? The kid was lucky he hadn’t ended up in jail for all he knew, probably because of his age… 17 was awfully young for someone with such a reputation. He didn’t spare the few pictures that came with the critics a second glance and instead went to writing his secretary how she was so definitely fired if those kids left as much a mess in his home as they apparently had on their last concert. She’d be even more screwed if something was burning by the end of the night.

He thought about telling Alfred about the results of his research but he was pretty sure the man already knew everything there was to know about any of the visitors including the band and so he just went to bed, to at least get a bit of sleep.

_Bruce dreamt of young people with blurred faces who were screaming and running around his Manor, setting fire to the tapestry while a crowd of businessmen and women in fine suits and evening gowns was cheering them on._

15th April – The Wayne Corp. Party

They were late. Of course they were late. They probably weren’t coming at all considering they were a teenage punk rock band with songs about destroying capitalism and the patriarchy who was being asked to play for a party hosted by the personification of capitalism. Bruce didn’t especially like being known as _the_ playboy, rich son and successful company owner… he loved it. He was used to things going his way and only his and if he didn’t get something whoever screwed it up had it coming. He was nothing like the wild boys who charmed girls with their rudeness and badarse exterior. He didn’t need it. He was classy, smart and rich and blessed with genes that basically wrote ‘male model’ all over his handsome face.

The place was crowded with people, all, as expected, dressed in their finest outfits and filling the room with soft chatter and laughter. Bruce threw a glance at Alfred through the room but the butler shook his head, indicating that he didn’t know where the band was either. It was only when his secretary hurried into the room, her heels clicking on the wooden floor, gesticulating wildly. Only minutes later the room was suddenly quiet as a graveyard and judging from the lack of Alfred in the room and the lights that were suddenly dimmed, the butler had assumed his position in supervising the  handling of the lights. There were heavy footsteps on the small stage and the rustling of cloth, followed by the sound of something hitting the ground, probably a guitar case. Someone, with a slightly husky voice yelled: “Lights!” The lights flickered a few times, flooding the room with a soft, twilight while another projector cast white and colourful spots on the stage, illuminating the three young adults standing there.

Bruce was pretty sure his secretary held her breath as the first guitar riffs filled the large room, enforced by the excellent sound equipment and echoing from the high ceiling. Then, a flicker of light and a fourth figure stepped onto the stage. The others were all clad in dark outfits, skinny jeans, formfitting tops, chains dangling from their hips. But this one was even more… extravagant. His jeans seemed to be glued onto his skin and Bruce wondered for a moment how the guy could even walk in those. They seemed to be torn at a few key points, obviously because they were fashioned that way. He seemed to be wearing a dark top with a very plunging neckline, baring his hairless and smooth chest. Over his shoulders hung a tight leather jacket hugging his body in exactly the right places, as he practically pranced onto the stage in his high leather boots. He had a wide grin plastered onto his face, exposing two rows of white, even teeth with sharp canines. His hair looked like he had just tamed a tornado and from what Bruce could see he was wearing dark eyeliner.

A hand, clad in a fingerless glove grabbed the mic and the guy bowed to the audience in a half mocking, half serious gesture. “My name is Jason and I am here to make your evening a sweet hell.” The crowd cheered and for the first time in what had seemed minutes Bruce could actually hear his secretary breathing again.

The first few songs were the ones he had heard on the radio, slower not quite so revolutionary and Bruce had to admit that he had never heard a voice like that. Jason’s voice was kind of smoky and gravelly but not too deep or rough. The way he moved was something else entirely. He acted as if the stage was his alone, the whole Manor belonged to him and every single member of the audience was someone he personally tried to seduce. Bruce didn’t feel quite as guilty as he probably should as his gaze stayed glued to the singer’s hips. He lost his leather jacket after the fourth song and the cheering of all the high society business associates grew even louder. The fifth song he didn’t sing at all. He just stepped into the background and grabbed a bottle of water while the one with the bass, Bruce was pretty sure it was the one named Roy, took his place. He wasn’t bad but his skills with the bass were definitely his strength and his voice was no real competition for Jason.

A few minutes into the song Bruce’s eyes wandered back to the teenager in the back of the stage.

Fuck.

The heir to the great Wayne Empire was very sure the guy was doing that on purpose, stretching his lips around the neck of the bottle like he was sucking someone off, his eyes half closed. It surprised him though, that Jason seemed to notice his attention and for a moment the gaze of those dark, green eyes was resting on him. Then Jason screwed the bottle shut and replaced Roy again, his hips swaying and a pink tongue sweeping out to lick a few imaginary drops of his lips.

The next few songs were fast and Jason seemed to be focused on getting his text right and having almost sex with the microphone. The room seemed to be too hot not only for Bruce but also for the singer. His shirt clung to his chest even more than it did before and the bare skin of his arms and chest was glistening with sweat. His makeup was just a tiny bit smeared. He looked like he had just been screwed in the back of his car and Bruce didn’t have the character strength to deny that it looked delicious.

Of course he would never admit it but Gotham’s favourite bachelor completely forgot about the time while he was listening to the band that was admittedly pretty damned good. He almost thought Jason’s attention earlier had been purely incidentally but then it was suddenly the last song and the boy picked up the microphone and looked right at him as he announced: “The last song is for our lovely host. It’s a song we all know from a band we admire a lot. The song’s called ‘Behind blue eyes’ by The Who!”

_No one knows what it’s like_

_To be the bad man_

_To be the sad man_

_Behind blue eyes_

_No one knows what it’s like_

_To be hated_

_To be fated_

_To telling only lies_

The boy took a deep breath, as the light slowly faded back into the twilight it had been in the beginning but his gaze was still lingering on Bruce. A strange desire filled him in this moment and he wanted nothing more but to walk up to the stage and pull the teenager against him, feel his breath on his skin, as he sung, his voice getting lower by the minute as if he was trying to best himself.

_But my dreams_

_They aren’t as empty_

_As my conscience seems to be_

_I have hours, only lonely_

_My love is vengeance_

_That’s never free_

_No one knows what it’s like_

_To feel these feelings_

_Like I do_

_And I blame you_

The boy was definitely flirting with him! The way he stared at Bruce with his half lidded eyes was simply obscene, one hand clutching the microphone, the other slowly running down his own torso as if he was doing a strip tease and not giving a concert. He gripped the hem of his shirt, pulling it up enough to show off his flat stomach.

_No one bites back as hard_

_On their anger_

_None of my pain and woe_

_Can show through_

_But my dreams_

_They aren’t as empty_

_As my conscience seems to be_

_I have hours, only lonely_

_My love is vengeance_

_That’s never free_

The boy licked his lips again, hooking into his jeans and pulling them even lower, his fingertips stroking the bare skin of his hip. If he wasn’t a new star on the punk rock heaven, he’d be a stripper. And a damn good one too. His hand slowly slipped lower, stroking the rip in his jeans that ended just short of his crutch for a few heartbeats.

_When my fist clenches, crack it open_

_Before I use it and lose my cool_

_When I smile, tell me some bad news_

_Before I laugh and act like a fool_

_And if I swallow anything evil_

_Put your finger down my throat_

_And if I shiver, please give me a blanket_

_Keep me warm, let me wear your coat_

_No one knows what it’s like_

_To be the bad man_

_To be the sad man_

_Behind blue eyes_

Jason shot him a last grin and then blew him a kiss and then the light went dark. The crowd was cheering, some were screaming for more but the band used the tiny moment of darkness to disappear from the stage. They obviously had neither the breath, nor did they want to play any more songs. The very last song had been enough to leave Bruce breathing a bit heavier and he felt his trousers strain uncomfortably. It was his luck that most of his employees seemed to be in a similar state. It was fascinating how a seventeen year old could rock the stage like this and leave the elite of Gotham, way, way older than the boy was, panting for more.

A few minutes later the lights were turned on again and the guests of the party were back to conversing. The stage was deserted now and the band probably in the dressing room Bruce had made sure was prepared for them. The famous socialite felt lost for a tiny moment, nor sure if he should pursue the interest in this Jason Todd, or if he should mingle with his guests. He decided to do the latter, since it was his duty as a host but he kept his eyes open for any sign of the boy. Bruce was pretty sure he had made it clear to his secretary that the band was invited to join the party after the concert under the condition that they didn’t try to burn down the house or anything but he wasn’t sure if they got the invitation or if it got lost.

He was almost relieved when he saw the boy only about half an hour later, still dressed in his very, very tight shirt and his even tighter pants, but looking less sweaty. Oh, how he wanted to make him sweat again, wanted to taste how the kid’s smooth skin tasted. Bruce didn’t really care if he should be a responsible adult or something like that and he didn’t even know if the age of consent in their state was sixteen or eighteen. He only knew he wanted the boy.

“Amazing concert.” He mumbled into the singer’s ear, as he approached him from behind, resting one hand on his shoulder in a gesture that was not entirely flirty and not entirely friendly. Jason only smiled as he looked up to him. And his lips were so fucking red, swollen like one would expect it after a hot make out session. “Thanks, Bruce. Bruce it is, right?” His face told Bruce that the boy knew exactly who he was and he only nodded, leaning closer just ever so slightly. He could smell the boy’s sweat and his aftershave something almost sickeningly sweet that went so perfectly well with the slight smell of cigarette smoke. Jason grinned and only then did Bruce notice the piercing in his tongue. How would it feel to kiss the other with that thing in his tongue? Would it be good? Would he be able to taste the metal or whatever it was?

“You know. I really wouldn’t mind getting away from all those people. They’re not really my brand of… you know society.” The boy grinned and something in his voice, rough from the hours of singing and still so damn sweet, made Bruce want to abandon all his social duties and drag the kid to one of his many bedrooms. He still hesitated though, not that he didn’t want to, oh he did, but he didn’t want the kid to regret it afterwards. “I. Want. You… preferably now.” The low voice practically purred into his ear and suddenly there was a lean, very hot body pressed against his and he really didn’t give a shit about anything else anymore. He nodded at Alfred who just raised an eyebrow, either in disapproval or indifference, Bruce couldn’t really tell, his mind was about to shut off, and slowly made his way towards the stairs. They were stopped a few times, Jason accepted congratulations and spared his ‘fans’ a few smiles and words, uttered in the same husky voice and Bruce was definitely not jealous.

Finally, after a few more minutes of socialisation they reached the stairs. A quick look over his shoulder reassured him that no one was actually watching them, not that he cared who they saw him with but he still wasn’t sure if the boy was above the age of consent or not. Then Jason passed him, his hips still swaying provocatively and Bruce hurried to follow him, before the poor kid got lost or something.

The moment they were around the corner and out of view, where no prying eyes could find them, he felt a pair of hands against his chest and his back hit the wall, as the boy pressed himself against him. “Such a kind host… you doing this with everyone who entertains your guests for you?” Jason was grinning but before Bruce could even think of something to reply; he felt a pair of lips press against his own. It was no sweet virgin kiss, no. It was a clash of teeth and tongue and he felt this skilled hands running all over his chest, crumpling his suit. He had a few inches on the boy but Jason simply grabbed his tie and pulled him down into the kiss. His hands felt too big on the slender body but he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to, from running them down the kid’s sides, cupping his arse and lifting him up ever so slightly.

Jason moaned into the kiss, encouraging the other to continue feeling him up. Hungry lips pressed against pale skin, sucking bruises onto a slender throat. The kid leant forward, his breath tickling Bruce’s ear, as he murmured lowly: “You seriously want to do this here, big man? Not like I’ve got anything against wall sex or anything… or against a free show for your guests…” Bruce growled and tore himself away from the kid in an act of self restraint. The taste lingered on his tongue, as he spared him an almost disapproving glance, trying to keep his ‘I’m the older, taller, bigger and more dominant one’ role, while he dragged Jason to one of the nearest bedrooms. It wasn’t the master bedroom, that one was too far away, but Alfred had been considerate enough to change the sheets of the ones that were closest to the stairs. Bruce didn’t know if the butler was expecting exactly this to happen or if it was in case one of his guests would pass or be too drunk to drive home.

The moment they were through the door he slammed it shut and pushed Jason further into the room, eyes hungrily roaming over the slender figure. Jason just grinned and watched him in return, chest heaving and fingers twitching but otherwise almost ridiculously calm. Bruce remembered being his age, hormones tormenting his body in every possible way, making him too horny to control himself. “How do you want it big boy? You want me on my knees? Want me to follow your every order like you’re my big daddy?” Bruce stared at him for a moment, unable to even think properly. “Yes…” his own voice throaty, as he stepped closer, watching Jason sink to his knees and looking up through his lashes. It was a look that was entirely too innocent but hell, it did turn him on.

He ran his fingers through the inky hair, feeling the satin softness combined with whatever hair product he used to form those hard spikes. Jason leant forward, nuzzling Bruce’s crotch for a moment and a wave of heat shot through the older man’s body. Those long, slender fingers ghosted over the bulge in his trousers but then faltered, as if hesitating. “Your orders daddy…” Jason purred and Bruce could see that he was shaking but trying so hard to keep their little play going.

“Get out of these clothes.” Bruce stepped back, his mouth suddenly so very dry, as he watched the kid undress. Jason really could’ve been the best stripper Gotham’s ever seen. The kid ran his hands all over his own body, pulling his shirt over his head in an almost tormenting way, that gave Bruce a very nice view of the kid’s chest and stomach and…

He had never been one to develop any real kinks but the blue and black lines of ink that decorate his stomach. Two feathers, elegant and beautiful like they’re slowly sliding down his body. “Turn around.” He commanded without even thinking because there has to be more.

And Jason did.

Wings. Beautiful wings, from his shoulder blades down to where his skinny jeans begin and Bruce could have bet they covered his arse too. And damn was he turned on. The tattoos were so perfectly done, it looked like he could just spread those wings and fly away. And in that moment Bruce wanted nothing more than to chain him, he wanted to see that slender neck with a collar, wanted him secured to the ground so he wouldn’t even think about flying away. He moved closer, running his fingertips over where the tattoos begin only to bow down and press his lips there too, like he was trying to taste the mark. “On the bed. Now.” He growled. Jason hurried to obey but not without looking at him over his shoulder, a wry grin on his lips because he knew exactly what he was doing to Bruce and he was doing it on purpose.

Bruce was on him in seconds, covering the smaller body with his own, still clad in his elegant suit and they were kissing again. It was no less urgent then, no less heated and passionate, tongues sliding against each other in a desperate attempt to get closer. Jason was pushing up against him, shamelessly grinding their lower bodies together and the look on his face was pure sex. Bruce didn’t bother with being gentle; almost tearing the kid’s jeans down discovering that he wasn’t wearing _anything_ underneath them.

The boots were a fight. But one he could win and despite his trembling fingers they soon joined the rest of Jason’s clothes on the floor. “Please, daddy, touch me…” And if Bruce had ever been so turned on his life he didn’t remember it because right now and then he was seventeen again and about to come in his fucking trousers.

And as if the kid hadn’t already planted enough ideas into his head: “You wanna tie me down, daddy?” Bruce couldn’t form any coherent thought instead he nodded hastily and ripped off his tie, wrapping it tightly around Jason’s wrists. The boy arched again, his dick hard against Bruce’s still clothed thigh, smearing a dark stripe onto the grey fabric. The Gotham socialite leant back, clenching his teeth as he tried his hardest not to just take Jason’s leaking member into his mouth and suck him off because that would be no fun at all. Instead he threw his suit jacket onto the ground next to the bed and almost ripped off his dress shirt unable to deal with all those tiny buttons.

Jason’s lips were too kissable for someone who wasn’t a pornstar and Bruce had to have them again.

He fumbled with his trousers, trying to get them off whilst kissing Jason _and_ grinding his hips down to get some goddamn friction.

Finally.

Finally he got his trousers off and he was tearing his shorts down to his ankles, pulling his shorts off in the same semi-fluent movement. He couldn’t deal with shoes right now and it wasn’t fucking important because their dicks were rubbing together sending sparks of heat through his body. Jason writhed underneath him, looking almost torn as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted his thin, lascivious lips stretched around Bruce’s majestic member or if he wanted to be fucked or if he just wanted a way to get off.

He decided.

“Fuck me, daddy. Oh please, fuck me!”

His voice was so beautifully broken and his eyes were clouded and dark. Wanting.

“Turn around.” The boy scrambled to follow suit, rolling onto his stomach and spreading his legs. The view was exquisite and Bruce was about to complain about not having any lube but his fingers slipped easily into Jason’s slick hole. “You prepared yourself…” he growled, leaning forward and biting down hard into the kid’s shoulder. He didn’t deny the spark of jealousy burning in his chest and he slipped in another finger, not really stretching him any further just teasing a bit.

“I… wanted to see whether… I could get your attention.” The smirk on Jason’s lips was almost wide enough to reach his ears but his voice was wrecked and his body was coming apart under Bruce’s hands.

Bruce pulled his fingers away abruptly, leaving Jason whimpering for the split second it took for Bruce to get his dick where his fingers were just now and pressing in without as much as a warning.

It was tight. Loose enough to slip in inch per inch but tight enough to have him grind his teeth because he was so close. But he wanted to claim him, he wanted to have the boy, have him as his alone. In this very moment he wanted nothing more than to own Jason, be able to keep him at hand forever. But even in his lust clouded mind he realised that Jason couldn’t be chained, he was like a stray cat, or like the wild robins in the garden that came and went however they pleased.

He pushed in until there was no more to push in but he couldn’t muster any patience and just moved, driving in and out of Jason in a pace that was almost cruel.

The boy kept crying for more.

Bruce followed the lines of the tattoo with his tongue and they were both so fucking close and it was just not enough.

“Please… Daddy!”

And the sweet, sweet and so very broken voice shoved him over the edge.

His fingers dug into the boy’s hips, leaving bruises that would stay for at least a few days, and he felt Jason fall apart underneath him, trembling and burying his face in the pillow with a sob as his come stained the sheets.

The silence following their release was almost awkward, until Jason began shifting, and casting a coy glance over his shoulder. “Not that I don’t enjoy it, daddy, but my hands are kinda numb.” Bruce shivered at the words and slowly pulled out, settling down next to him on the mattress before he reached out to undo the tie.

“You gonna throw me out come morning?” Jason muttered into the pillow.

Bruce knew it was no use going down there now, he looked just about as screwed as he was and Alfred would know how to deal with the guests and he was known for his moods anyway. The people would still love him for presenting them Dead Sidekick…

“Depends. Are you going to still be there come morning?”

Jason grinned and it was only barely visible, since his face was still smashed into the pillow.

“Depends.”

-The End-


End file.
